All That I Am
by Rissa85-stargazing-85
Summary: Sweet Valley University: Although William White is an enigma and seems secretive, he is captured by the reticent but beautiful dark-skinned new college student who has a lot more to her past than anyone knows..
1. All That I Am: Conversation for Two

Title: All That I Am

Part 1: Conversation for Two

Author: Rissa85-stargazing85

E-mail: rissa85@collegeclub.com

Rating: PG13 (perhaps R later)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Sweet Valley University series or its characters.

Author's Note: I've introduced a new character in the series. A certain Maria Slater. Pause please, because some will remember the Maria Slater from the Senior Year Sweet Valley High series. But…no. It's the same name, different gal. This Maria is only alike, perhaps in study habit and name. Everything else…? Is an original masterpiece. (Hm, yeah right.) Another note is that this story begins to take place around Book 3, What Your Parents Don't Know, and it is alternate universe because William White is not interested in Elizabeth-but for lust. He's interested in my original character in mind and flesh.

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William White. Maria Slater rolled her eyes, as she sat across from Elizabeth. The library was a comforting place for her, and luckily she found that Elizabeth was just beginning to leave. Inconspicuously, William was diverting his attention between her and Elizabeth. And upon seeing his behavior and hearing slight rumors about him, she was beginning to feel uneasy.

"Psst." Maria looked around, seeing her whisper brought uncharacteristic attention to her. She lowered her voice; "The enigmatic Mr. White is sliding his eyes toward you."

Almost imperceptibly, she was witness to the faint flush of Elizabeth' cheeks, then her turquoise eyes blinked rapidly. "I have to…go meet Tom somewhere."

Startled, Maria nodded passively. "Okay…well let me help you get your books." She aided Elizabeth in gathering her books, and waved her hand slightly to signal good-bye. Then she sat; rolling her shoulders and began to open her book, her pencil sitting next to it, neatly sharpened to a leaded point.

A hand with perfectly cut short and shaped cuticles and nails closed her book shut, the sound surprising her, albeit not pleasantly. Her pencil, with her name engraved on the side, slid to the floor. And warily she looked up, into the piercing, searching ice-blue eyes of William White. 

Danny and Bryan had warned her of him, between the three, they began to have suspicions that he was perhaps a supremacist, and closet racist, perhaps a chauvinist also. And since Maria was against all and every one of these attributes, she wished no more to see or hear, nor talk about the enigma, which was called William.

Appalled as if she had discovered someone had slashed her tires, she drew her most amiable expression, which for him, was one of sheer boredom. Her tone was drawling, for she had a Southern accent, but also monotonous. "Why, Mr. White…" she trailed off, "…how are you this evening?"

He took in her dark hair curly and cascading over her right shoulder and her soft honey-colored eyes. Strange how this girl was of people he'd hate to associate with, be seen with, but her intoxicating smile was alluring him. A faint idea crept in the back of his mind that perhaps the smile was too saccharine to be sincere, but he shook the thought off swiftly, his arrogance wouldn't allow for that.

Her smile turned quickly into a balanced grimace, and he continued. "I'm quite all right. May I take a chair?" he gestured toward the one Elizabeth was sitting in. Maria began to shake her head, in the negative, but quickly and fluidly he slid into the seat.

"Mr. White, I am studyin' and…" she broke off as she flipped through the pages for her pencil. William watched her, twirling it around in his left hand all the while. Her pretty face formed a small pout; her drawling accent and polished manners convinced him she had hailed from the Southland. And indeed, upon looking her up on the school records, she did hail from the South. Alabama- to be exact.

"May I please have my pencil, sir?" her voice dripped with mock respect.

"Go with me." His voice was steady and slightly seductive. "I'm having trouble with…biology myself. Perhaps you could tutor me, Ms. Slater?" his voice was suave with the same mock respect.

She began to shake her head, thinking of an excuse not to and began to open her book, still pencil-less. But he was quick and closed it shut again. Her temper began to show slowly, like an engine that is first shoveled with coal slowly then ignited with roaring flame and heat. "Sir, I ain't…wantin' to be hostile. But I've got studyin' to do." Her accent winding its way into her speech.

"Please," he asked quietly, his blue eyes sincere and full of emotion. "I want your help. It's been recommended by Peter Wilbourne, and I'm wondering who it's been that has helped him in getting an A on the last exam."

She heard his subtle praise and flattery, and she felt herself wavering until she looked up into his blue eyes, and became lost. "All right. But get your biology text, and be here again in 10 minutes. I'm busy."

***

He wanted to listen to her drawling voice, he felt himself deferring to it. The pleasant yet monotonous tone of it wrapping around his ears and settling in the air between the two. Her hazel eyes following the text and her glossed lips mouthing each word precisely, he could see it was a slight struggle to proper pronounce words which her accent would slip over with occasion. Then he would have to follow along and ask her again before she would catch herself, and sourly repeat the word again. 

Maria looked up, hearing the loud whispers of a few girls, namely Theta sisters, whom she pledged to, and Alison the vice-president had unofficially announced that she would become a member. No doubt, they were whispering about her and William White, to whom she barely acknowledged they were sitting rather close. And even though the smell of his cologne was inebriating, she moved over a good 12 inches or so. 

William's ice-blue eyes looked up from, what she could see were her clear-polished and rounded nails to her face. "How can I follow along if you move half-way across the library?"

"Because, Mr. White, you have your own book." She ended simply.

"It sounds better, and I understand it more when I listen to you read, then explain it to me." He pressed.

"It feels a bit stuffy in here." He noticed her fleeting gaze, then placed his hand on hers, enjoying the contrast.

"I know, I've noticed it." She stressed the syllables.

He noticed her voice, and winced. "Your accent sounds better, Ms. Slater."

"Perhaps that is the closest uttering of a compliment I've heard you give." She smiled reluctantly.

"Going back to my comment, it is a bit stuffy here." He shifted.

Maria nodded; hopping that would be a cue to end the study session. "It is…" she gathered her text and gripped the papers, placing them in a binder with her calligraphy-like writing. "I…"

"Ms. Slater, would you please help me study elsewhere? My room, perhaps, only for a quarter of an hour more? Then I'd walk you to your room, if you'd like?"

His convincing and winsome smile stripped her of her power and she acquiesced.

***

The light switch flipped, as William entered first, then Maria who hesitated before leaving the door open. Much to her dismay he closed it, quietly behind them. The room was quite tidy. The beds made up neatly, with a frame of a watercolor of a beach, a redwood desk, and a night stand on either side of each bed. On the middle night stand lay a very expensive-looking gold watch, and while William muttered something or other about the messiness of the room, she laughed and questioned that she may look at the timepiece.

She bent down, on her knees, her legs carefully tucked behind her, mindful of her short Jean skirt. It was a beautiful watch with tiny diamonds encrusted on it and in it. It must have cost a fortune. And impressed, she stood, noticing William was nowhere around. 

Flashes of a secret society encircled her brain, and she hesitantly walked toward the door. Until she heard his voice. "Perhaps you are uncomfortable, Ms. Slater?"

"Ah, no. Not at all, I…I was, looking at this elaborate set of books." She turned gesturing at the bookcase behind her.

William emerged from the bathroom, with his shirt in his hand. His muscles clearly defined and her jaw nearly dropped. She quickly averted her eyes, and stared down at her hands, not trusting herself to fumble with a book. He was searching for something, and the quietness of the room seemed to be audible. She went to the desk, and leaned over it, a stack of papers in a corner. She tilted her head, focusing on it. Notes. Notes of startling familiar hand-writing, photo-copied. Her handwriting. The notes she had let Peter Wilbourne copy. William had them.

"I see, Ms. Slater." His expression was one of amusement. "Your notes are famous in our circle." His face was inches from hers, over her shoulder. She noticed he was wearing a flannel shirt now, a dark green. 

"That must be another one of your compliments?" her speech was exact.

She turned, his eyes piercing hers. "The text?"

He held it for her, "Here."

She looked around, for the desk had only one chair. But noticing this, he replied. "Sit down here." He gestured toward his bed, "Where we can study."

Tentatively, she did, he sat next to her, as she began to explain the difference of ATP and ADP, dealing with photosynthesis and the formula for glucose. Her perfume was startlingly close and sweet-smelling crisp and cool. And her drawling accent became so apparent, he knew she must be doing it on purpose. But not heeding her she stopped.

"Mr. White?"

He gave her a questioning gaze. "I'm sorry. Your accent it's…"

"Annoying? I know it's…" he brought his finger to her lips.

"It's lulling."

Uneasily, and heedful of his seductive undertones, Maria stretched, attempting to gather her things quickly. "I…need to go, it's completely slipped my mind. Bryan is helping me…" her mouth stopped before her mind could catch up with her hastily thought falsehoods. All the while, William carried an expression he usually bore in deep concentration or thought. One of watchfulness, analysis, and searching. His eyes bore holes into hers, and seeing his eyes that were looking at her but not AT her, she felt near invisible. What was with the atmosphere around him? It was chilling, ominous. And very, very uncomfortable.

"You must tell me, then, how are you and Bryan acquainted?" his smile was gleaming. "I've seen you two together."

She was almost certain she heard a slight jealous undertone, but that was silly. The enigmatic, sophisticated, alleged white supremacist William White, harboring a fancy for little old her, a slightly radical black girl from Alabama. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, and thinking of it she did something very odd in his expectant silence. She laughed, her white teeth showing and lighting her face.

"You're so much better to be around when your not thinking or studying. I do believe you might have some fun somewhere within your body. Perhaps we should explore it?" his suave voice wafted its way to her ear, along with his accompanying cologne. He gripped her waist, settling her smoothly on his bed. His fluidity and suddenness was so startling, she did not seem to have time to react to it. She was slipping, her self-control was slipping. All in favor of Mr. White.

"I'll only hold you for a few minutes more, perhaps you would like to dine with me? Tomorrow morning perhaps? It'd please me greatly if you could accompany me, Ms. Slater."

She winced inwardly, he was not her abstraction of an attraction. Not with all the rumors flying about on his character, he was anything but. But his pleasing blue eyes, and masculine cologne, and his searching gaze, which seemed to open all in her soul out to him in clear view was dangerously disarming. The air was still as she bit her lip, debating on her decision whether not to go brunching with him tomorrow, when she had nothing planned but…of course to study.

At length, the idea of brunch won out, and feebly she replied. "It..it seems nice to invite me. I accept."

----- 


	2. All That I Am: Thoughts of William White

Title: All That I Am Part 2: Thoughts (William White) Author: Rissa85-stargazing85 E-mail: rissa85@collegeclub.com Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: I do not own Sweet Valley University series. Author's Note: Like the title implies, my part 2 is going to be about the mindset of my two characters being focused on. William White and Maria Slater. Enjoy. --- She had long legs, and though she was not tall, her lithe frame and natural grace made her seem so. She was dark, with skin a shade or two darker than the espresso mocha coffee he drank in the morning. Her eyes were honey, the color of that sweet syrup he had always loved when he was a child. And her voice was smooth, reminding him of a gentle rain.  
  
This embodiment of perfect physical attribute sat across from him, at an elaborate restaurant, early in the morning. A small grimace had replaced her previous day's smile, and her half-lidded eyes appeared as if they would droop shut at any moment, but none the matter. Her aura was one of expressed grogginess, though she was languid, she still managed to manage her customary simple elegance, until he was sure she was capable of making sweats and a t-shirt appear suave.  
  
The waitress appeared as soon as they were seated, in an elegant restaurant, four star and serving delicious morning food. Perhaps it was because he had high tastes, and an even more critical eye. He was as always, simple in the morning but sophisticated in dark slacks and a clean collared and long-sleeved shirt. She was as lovely as always, donning a black knee-length skirt and a silk, green and sleeveless blouse.  
  
He had ordered a cup of Kopi Luwak, expensive coffee, certainly. But satisfyingly tasteful, and with a caramel aftertaste. He watched as Maria looked up at the waitress, with a small smile, and replied that she would like orange juice.  
  
William stared at her, "Are you sure you don't want what I've gotten?"  
  
Negatively, she shook her head, and as the waitress left she replied. "I won't waste my money on something I'm not sure I'll like."  
  
"I'm paying." He answered her quizzically, as if she had forgotten he had told her it was his pleasure to take her out to breakfast.  
  
"That won't be necessary." She smiled warmly, almost too warmly.  
  
His smile almost made her laugh, "I won't let you pay."  
  
She was very still for a moment, then she replied. "You sure?"  
  
"It would be stupid of me to ask you to breakfast and then watch you pay."  
  
His comment was reasonable, and feeling pampered and a little spoiled, she sat back into the soft cushions the chairs where made of until she realized William was gazing at her intently.  
  
Feeling as if she had done something out of place in such a nice restaurant, she sat up fluidly. "What are you looking at?" she replied, a hint of half-hearted annoyance presented in her voice.  
  
"You." His eyes were piercing hers, and his voice was soft.  
  
She shifted, "I must be dull to look at. I'm pretty sure I don't change from one moment to the next."  
  
His coffee and her orange juice were brought in crystalware that shone through the windows, depicting the morning dew on the fields of flowers in the scenery. Maria almost wondered why she was not asleep in her dorm room, but then reminded herself that unless she did not want to study extra to make up for time lost later in the morning, it was better to wake up early to meet with William. Even if that meant waking up before 9 a.m.  
  
As it was, she was having trouble keeping her eyes open, and it was only 8:30 in the morning. The steam from William's coffee was rousing and the smell was delectable but she was sure that it was probably expensive, and not wanting to seem unsophisticated, she took sips of her orange juice.  
  
"Fresh orange juice." She muttered, positively.  
  
"Yes, I liked it also when I was a child. Until coffee was introduced to me."  
  
She looked over at his cup, "You like it then, black too?"  
  
He nodded, tilting his head. "It isn't coffee unless it's black. It's such a lovely color."  
  
She attempted to follow his thoughts. "Ah! Now I've found out why you smoke."  
  
He saw her smile and felt himself lost in it. "That's the first genuine joke I've heard you say."  
  
"Who said I was joking?" she was playful. "Your lungs are going to turn black, and then you'll be flirting with emphysema."  
  
"Two corrections. One, I only flirt with women I entertain. And two, I think black is sexy."  
  
She felt his eyes on her and hearing the implying tones in his voice, she felt herself at once belittled and exalted. Opting for a display of emotion that would not cause his attention and would be neutral, she forced a tight- lipped smile.  
  
"Why did you ask me to breakfast?" she questioned curiously.  
  
"I want to entertain you."  
  
"Why entertain me when you could have any of the other girls on campus. Like Denise Waters, Isabella Ricci, Alison...."  
  
"What makes you think I could connect with them?"  
  
He had her at that point, and speechless she sat in silence. He smiled at her silence, her full lips forming an almost invisible pout, and he reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers, loving the contrast.  
  
"Come now, let me see your smile. It must've been that which caught my attention."  
  
His comment forced her to laugh against her will and she replied. "Well, is it possible to be jealous of my own features? Who would've thunk that my features could be dated independent of me?"  
  
"Maybe your smile is the link to you." --- Stars. He had always been fond of them as a little boy. Especially when his father took him to the White Observatory in the mountains, usually during the summer when he grew bored at home with his nanny. He remembered that his always wanted to be an astronomer when he grew old, as "old as you" he used to say to his father. Physics had been a relatively difficult course, especially since he wanted to excel at everything, be sophisticated at nearly everything. It was in the White family history.  
  
High school had been so easy, usually his tutors and the Academy had been docile with him and the subjects usually bored him, especially business subjects, though he performed unusually well at Statistics. It had been easy to find dates, beautiful girls from well-known families he attended the Academy with, characteristically easy girls.  
  
The first couple of years of college, he was met with his customary awed teachers and students. Everyone thought they knew the prestige of the White family, not knowing that the only White son belonged to a secret society that boasted to aid those races which were uppity to the White race, which was naturally supreme. Everyone in the society typically was guaranteed excellent jobs soon after graduation. He was not exception; in fact many in the corporate world supported the society, for their jobs were based on their performance in the society in college.  
  
Though his mother did not know, his father took great pains to keep the secret from her. She herself was a closet racist, not wanting to appear so but very much having racist thoughts and having no trouble voicing them quietly over dinner. Though, he was raised with his parents, who obviously considered the White race superior to all the other races, because naturally they were smarter and more physically attractive.  
  
All through college, he had been met with beautiful girls, some brunettes, and most blonds with light hued eyes who fawned over him. Always being aloof and urbane, he used them when he needed to cool his manhood's desire. Then as if they were tissues, he usually discarded them. Women were nothing to him, really, just for his own use.  
  
He had been exposed to pretty girls, of other races. Most of them, he knew were less intelligent than the fairer ones he dated. He never had a second thought to date them, they were beneath him, much like off-brand merchandise that was sold in those cheap stores near the University.  
  
Except when he saw that dark girl with curly hair and light-hued eyes, the color of honey. She had breezed across campus in expensive smelling perfume, crisp and light. All dressed in casual jeans and a fitted t-shirt which molded itself to her upper body, and sandals, she seemed to love the outdoors. Her hair stopped a little past her shoulders; usually she wore it brushed into waves.  
  
He did not want to see her, but her smile had shone when she met up with a black boy, his name was Bryan. The boyfriend of their mutual friend, Nina Harper who he had overheard was in the library. They were good friends, he against his better judgment followed behind them, pretending to be heading elsewhere. Her accent was soft and Southern. It made him think of Celine, which in itself wasn't such a pleasant thought. Decidedly, she was much more polished than Celine with her wild hair and audacious clothing that screamed for lecherous attention. No, this girl was refined, and struck with her in his thoughts...and those of Elizabeth, save but for lust. He wanted to know about this new girl.  
  
Tracking her on the school records was fairly painless; she was from Alabama, Birmingham. Her parents were not rich, in fact, it seemed that she was in college because of academic scholarships. She had a younger sister, young enough to be her daughter, only three years of age. She was nineteen, two years his senior and a college freshman. He had found her birthday to be in August, she was a Leo. His first time speaking with her had been to offer her a white rose, which she had commented it wasn't necessary on bestowing on her.  
  
He had nearly been disgusted at himself, giving her, a black girl, a bouquet of roses. His family would've been appalled, the secret society would've been disgusted. Wanting to date a black girl, they would've had relatively no commotion if they found he had been sleeping with her, after all the infusion of white blood would help the potential resulting bastard. And while her physical features were not unnoticed by him, he knew that her head held intelligence.  
  
And so it was, she was one of the top students in the University, maintaining a 4.0 all through high school, she was involved in school as student body secretary, treasurer of the African-American Female League and prom princess. She volunteered at the hospital and local seniors' home and the Boys and Girls Club.  
  
And through all these accomplishments, she remained modest. Never boastful and never bringing attention to her accomplishments. She had wanted to attempt a pledge of the Theta sisters' sorority, but he had found she was to shy to pledge. Alison, the president, had been indifferent about pledging her, and by the insistence of some Thetas, he was sure she was going to be in a sorority.  
  
Other than that, he closest friend seemed to be Nina Harper and her boyfriend, Bryan. Another young man, though, had set his eyes on her. Calvin Brooks, another black boy, and on the college basketball team. He was a college senior, a year older than himself and three years older than she. He came from a semi-wealthy family with substantial business ties, and was also from the South Georgia. She was nice to him, as nice as she was to just about everyone else. Though, she did tutor him in arithmetic.  
  
His thoughts settled, and sighing, he checked his watch and knew it was late. His had a scheduled early class in the morning, and it was already past midnight. But, he could hear some of his dorm mates through the door, yelling to each other about the wild party that was just barely ending. Smiling, for he was popular also, like these yelling men, he rolled over and slept. --- The party was interesting to say the least; plenty of girls had been dressed in low cut, short attire and drinking or smoking cigarettes or weed. Some were Theta sisters, some belonged to other sororities and some others were campus grazers, not belonging to anything but mingling with all.  
  
Most of his buddies had decided to set their eyes on a 'special' girl of the evening, and attempt to get in good with her. He, himself, was beginning to tire of the loose girls which under alcohol and cigarettes could be found in his bed, at fastest, an hour later. He still could smooth talk, when he wanted to, but the girl he wished to see wasn't there. In fact, he had only seen her at one party the whole semester, and there had been plenty to go around.  
  
She did not like parties, so she said. She was quiet, modest, and generous. Dorm parties did not seem to go hand-in-hand with her personality at any rate. But it was hard to forget that first party, when she waltzed in like a dazzling apparition; wearing a simple blue sundress and khaki sandals. Her smile was soft, and her words were softer. Talking to her on the balcony had been pleasant enough, he had not seen her drink, and she hated to smoke. She was there with a friend, Denise Waters-a Theta.  
  
She was intoxicating, everything she said and did seemed to go to his head and make it spin like drink. He wanted to see more of her, and finding out she was a member of the Black Student Union was all the information he needed, for he too was involved. He had sat with her at a meeting, and offering her coffee, he managed to begin a friendship.  
  
He had noticed a certain supremacist that seemed to have his eye on her, he was popular and from an extremely wealthy family-William White, of New York. She had commented that he seemed nice enough, had conversed with her quietly and nicely enough. Then she had declared him jokingly, to be silly and jealous. He had swung her around and stated that she was too lovely to be swept up in the arms of any other man but him. And her resulting laughter was a cherished memory. --- 


End file.
